


Steady Hands, Steady Hearts

by TooOceanBlue



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, If ya'll want smooches I'm already gonna tell you you wont get them here, Meeting the Parents, Platonic Relationships, but I promise its still good, but mostly just lots of meisterly love and support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 15:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooOceanBlue/pseuds/TooOceanBlue
Summary: “I don't know. I guess it was a lot of little things. They didn’t understand Soul. And they didn't have to work to understand me, so I guess they just never tried”. A visit to the Evans Estate, the first one for Maka. She had never met Soul’s parents, could hardly get a word from him about them, so a family visit to the east coast was the perfect opportunity. But she knew more than anyone that friendly smiles only meant so much.





	Steady Hands, Steady Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Before ya'll read this, I want to make sure everyone knows about my blessed beta @zxanthe on tumblr, who absolutely saved my life grammar-wise with this! I also want to thank my amazing artist @anonbaph, who makes such pretty backgrounds I cannot believe. Her art will be embedded throughout the story, so look forward to that!  
> I wanna thank all the mods for putting this whole monstrosity together every year, and most of all I want to thank you lovely people for taking the time to enjoy this awesome fandom event!  
> With all that out of the way, I hope you all enjoy!

“Soul, are you ready?” Maka already knew the answer, in the physical sense. They’d received Wes’s invitation two weeks ago (or rather, his parents’ invitation, telephoned by Wes). Both he and Maka knew it would take a least a week to convince Soul to come, and another for him to pack, as he’d inevitably do so like a stubborn child, dragging his feet and “forgetting” important items every step of the way. But Maka had double-checked Soul’s suitcase the night before, and again this morning, so she knew he was ready.

“No.” The answer came through the crack in his bedroom door. Maka opened it the rest of the way to see him lying on his bed, suitcase closed on the floor. At least he was dressed. Maka sighed.

“Soul, come on. It’s just for a weekend.” Greeted with silence, she started again. “Soul-”

“I don’t wanna see them.” He grumbled.

“ _They_ want to see _you._ ”

“Never did before.”

“Are you seriously going to act like this?” Maka sat down on the edge of his bed. “You _know_ we’re going. The only thing you can control is whether or not we’ll miss our plane.”

Soul dragged an arm over his face. “Just five more minutes.”

Maka sighed. “Five more minutes. Then I’m dragging you out of here in scythe form if I have to.” She closed the door behind her.  
Soul’ parents had invited him home, just for a weekend, to ‘catch up’. At least that was how Wes put it. She suspected they really meant ‘reconcile.’ Despite Wes’s occasional visits, as far as Maka knew, Soul hadn’t contacted his parents since he came to Death City nearly half a decade ago. Maka couldn’t stand her father, but at least she was somewhat on speaking terms with him. Maybe if Soul had told her more about his family, she would understand why he was so emphatic about avoiding them. But all he left her with was an occasional comment and an undercurrent of distress. All she knew, she knew through Wes.

To Maka’s surprise, Soul did come out in five minutes, suitcase in hand. She had already packed hers into one of the large saddlebags on Soul’s motorcycle. Wordlessly, Soul did the same. Maka glanced at the wall clock. Their flight was in only half an hour. Thank god they were leaving Death City. Maka knew from experience that leaving from any other airport would take far longer.

The ride to the airport was short and silent, aside from the rumbling of the bike. By the time the plane took off, Soul had hardly said a word.

“Are you going to act like this the whole time?” Soul sat in the window seat, head back and eyes closed. Like he needed anymore sleep.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maka.”

“You’re _grumpy._ ”

“I didn’t wanna go.”

“It’s two days Soul!” A beat of unresponsiveness, and Maka sighed. They’d had this argument before. More times than she bothered to count in the last few days alone. “At least talk to me.”

Soul turned his head towards her, red eyes bored as usual. Or rather, they’d look bored to anyone else. “Yeah. But not about them, okay?”

“Fine. Can we still talk about the trip?” Maka reached down and dug into the carry on at her feet, pulling out her phone. “I’ve been trying to listen to more classical music and stuff, so I’m not going in clueless. Care to help?”

Soul smiled. “Since when do you have a problem with going in blind?”

“I _know how_ to fight kishin, Soul. According you, I don’t know music.”

Soul reached out, and Maka put the phone in his hand, screen already on the playlist she had spent the last two week compiling. “You’re smart enough that they won’t care.”

“Wes teases me.”

Soul was scrolling through the phone now. “And he should. Bach, Chopin, Beethoven? This is elementary, Maka.”

“I didn’t know where to start!”

“Heh. Here.” Soul reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own phone and a pair of tangled earbuds. He’d only bought them so they could share, he usually prefered headphones. “Listen to these ones.”

“You’ve showed me yours before.”

“I’ve showed you the _interesting_ ones. This is what Wes likes.”

Soul plugged in the earbuds and handed one to Maka. She glanced at the title and closed her eyes, imitating Soul’d relaxed posture. Together, they listened, and the music played.

 

***

**  
**

The flight was a little over five hours, short by their standards. They weren't even leaving the country. Maka could have been fooled however, by the sight before her.

Soul’s family’s house was _huge,_ the old mansion-home kind of house that they usually only saw in Europe. It was intimidating, to say the least. While Maka had seen her share of wealth (thanks in no little part to Kid’s elaborate parties at the gallows), something about this threw her off. _It’s normal,_ she realized as she and Soul grabbed their bags from the trunk of their rental car, though she didn’t say as much. The houses surrounding it weren't far behind in terms of opulence. She was used to looking at places like these from the outside, preoccupied with fighting some pre-kishin. Thinking of herself being inside a house like this made her think of the stuffy parties and judgmental stares she read about in old books. It made her skin crawl. Now she understood, at least partially, why it made Soul so uncomfortable. Places like these weren’t really made for people who could turn into a scythe at will. It still wasn’t an excuse to stay away from so long.

They walked up the long driveway in silence. They hadn’t spoken much in the car either. It almost made Maka regret putting Soul through this. But it was important for him to see his family. He needed to face his fears.

Soul grabbed her hand for just a moment as they approached the massive front doors. His palm was sweaty. Maka stretched out her wavelength. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. Soul took a breath and let go. She could practically hear his _whatever._

Maka was the one to ring the doorbell, once it became evident that Soul was intent on just standing there. Being difficult til the very last minute.

The right door opened to a familiar head of off-white hair. Maka was almost surprised. Part of her had expected a butler. “Wes! It’s so good to see you!”

“Maka, Soul, you as well! I’m glad you were able to drag him out here. Come in!” He held the door open farther and gestured them in, leading to what looked like some kind of sitting room. It became apparent very soon where Soul got at least some of his taste in internal decorating, though this was much brighter.

“Where’s Mom and Dad?” Soul had barely waited a second after Maka and Wes had taken their seats. He was still standing.

“Oh, they’re out doing something with some person, I don’t know.” Wes answered dismissively. “They’ll be back by dinner. I think they thought you were going to be late.”

“Glad they think so highly of me.”

Maka tapped his leg with the back of her hand. “Soul, be nice.”

“They’re not _here_ yet.”

“Soul, why don’t you have a seat. I want a few minutes to catch up before you hole up in your room.”

Maka smiled. There was no judgement in Wes’s voice, only teasing. She felt a surge of affection for her partner’s brother. She hoped he’d make this visit easier.

Soul slumped down next to her. Whether his posture was out of habit or rebellion in his parents’ home, she didn’t know. She suspected, though, that it wasn’t typically approved of here. Wes didn’t seem to mind.

“So how are things? You’ll be graduating soon, right? What do you want to do?”

Soul shot his brother look. “Uh, fight monsters. Be a Death Scythe.”

“I know, but you already do that. You’re going to have more time after school, what more do you want to do?”

“Fight more monsters.”

We sighed and turned to Maka.“Of course.” She could tell he was far from letting Soul be, but it would be impolite to ignore her. He probably knew he could get more about Soul from her anyway. “What about you, Maka? How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. We’ve been having to take a few more classes now that the DWMA has more information about witches. Some of the students are a little on edge about it, but it’s really a great opportunity.”

Wes smiled. “I’m glad they’ll be less of a danger now.”

“Me too.”

“And what about graduation? Do you have any plans?”

“About the same honestly, fighting kishin. But I might want to teach at the academy someday. Not right after graduation though. And Soul is probably going to be just as busy after school. Our alliance with the witches is still new, so once we graduate he’ll probably be accompanying Kid diplomatically. There are other Death Scythes to do the job, but he has to learn eventually.”

Wes grinned. “He needs to learn not to slouch if he’s going to be a diplomat.”

“Won’t matter if I take care of the kishin well enough. Which I will.”

“I know you will, Soul.” Wes’ smile warmed. She wondered if he always smiled as much as he did with Soul. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“We’ve been here for ten minutes.”

“So?”

“Can you hold off the gooey stuff for at least an hour?”

“Afraid not. I don’t see you often, and it builds up.

“How have you been Wes?” Maka had to ask over Soul’s groan. She elbowed him in the stomach, not at all inconspicuous. He almost laughed.

“I bought a house.” Wes started. “It’s not as big as this one, obviously, but I like it. You two need to visit some time this year. I always come to you, and I need some time at home. As riveting as a visit to Death City is -” he leaned in to whisper as if letting them in on some kind of conspiracy “- the skulls kind of creep me out.”

Maka laughed. “You get used to them. What about your music?”

“Oh, don’t even ask.” Wes leaned back, pulling one khaki-clad leg over the other. “It’s a big part of the reason I need some time at home. My agent has me touring almost back to back. I barely got the weekend off for this.”

“Stop humble-bragging” Soul said.

“Says the one who never lets us forget he’s the last Death Scythe.”

The conversation rose and fell for over an hour, before Wes suggested he show them the guest rooms. He told them if his mother came home to find he hadn’t shown them their rooms like a proper host, she’d give him a _mom look_ and he’d _die._

Wes led them up the stairs, Maka and Soul carrying their own suitcases on the condition that they wouldn’t tattle, to two doors at the end of the right hallway. “Mom turned your old room into a guest room, Soul, so you can have that.” He gestured to the door closer to the end of the hall. “And Maka, yours is next to it.” He smiled, closed lipped and polite, barely containing the monstrous will of an older brother. “You two don’t need to share a room, do you?”

“ _No,”_ Soul groaned, opening the door to his room to throw his suitcase next to the bed.

“Two rooms is good, Wes, thank you.” Maka wanted to _hit him_ but she had to remind herself that most people outside of Death City would be sent flying by any of her blows.

Wes put his hands up in mock surrender as he headed down the stairs, clearly seeing through Maka’s restraint. “Alright. Just come back down when you’re ready. Our parents should be back in about an hour, and we can have dinner.”

“Thanks.” Maka stepped through the door to the guest room. It was materially nicer than her bedroom, she had to admit, though obviously less personal. A white-sheeted double bed occupied the center of the room, a nightstand on either side and a dresser against the wall. The decorating was generic and tasteful. A painting of a landscape at the head of the bed. A mirror above the dresser and a desk with a vase opposite of it. It looked like a room in one of the higher-end hotels she had stayed in on missions, though lacking a microwave and TV. Maka set her suitcase by the dresser, not bothering to unpack. They would be leaving Sunday night, and in Maka’s opinion her clothes were just fine in the suitcase for a weekend. She did take out the two books she had packed, as well as her toothbrush and few toiletries.

Maka sat on the bed admiring the room for a few minutes before Soul leaned against the doorway. “You done?”

“Yeah,” Maka stood up. “You?” He wouldn’t miss the meaning beneath the word.

“Yeah.” He turned, clearing the doorway for Maka to walk beside him, and headed downstairs. Wes was waiting in the sitting room again.

“All unpacked?”

“Yep.”

They continued their conversation where they left off, discussing some of the more mundane, though nonetheless interesting, details of life in Death City. Soul only became more and more on edge as the hour closed, checking his phone at near minute intervals, when the three finally heard the sound of the front doors opening.

“That’s them” Wes stood. “You two can stay here. I’ll let them know you’re all settled.”

“Thanks.”

Soul’s jaw tightened as Wes left the room, his bored expression hardly a disguise to someone who knew him as well as she did. Maka doubted Wes had missed his discomfort either.

“It’s gonna be fine, Soul, They’re your parents.”

Soul didn’t answer, and their resonance stayed still until Wes reentered the room, a man and a woman just steps behind him. Maka stood to greet them, and Soul begrudgingly followed suit.

The woman, a dark beauty with eyes like her son’s,  smiled warmly, stepping around Wes to gracefully wrap Soul in her arms. “Soul. It’s been so long.” He barely raised his arms to return the gesture when she stepped back. “You’ve gotten so tall.”

“Yeah. Hi, Mom.”

Soul’s father closed their distance to rest his hand on Soul’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you came.”

“And you must be Maka.” Soul’s mother turned to her, smile warm. “Wes told us about you. You’re Soul’s ehm…”

“Meister.” Soul finished. “She’s my weapon meister.”

Her smile tightened. Maka was hit with the distinct impression that Soul’s weapon-status was seen as a taboo abnormality here. “Yes. I’m Evelyn, Soul’s mother.” She offered a delicate hand, which Maka took in her own.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“And you as well.” Evelyn released Maka’s hand, and turned to gesture. “This is my husband.”

“Ben.” He stepped forward, offering Maka his hand as well. He blinked when she took it in mild surprise. “Strong grip for such a small lady.”

“I’m a meister.” Maka answered, shrugging and lowering her hand. She was determined to not be affected by the atmosphere of the room, accented by shuffling feet and tense smiles. She couldn't exactly blame anyone for the awkwardness. Soul’s absence would have undoubtedly strained things, regardless of what his relationship with his parents had been like before.

“Well,” Evelyn clapped her hands together, the sound soft in the decorated room. “I do hate to rush, but I believe dinner should be ready soon. We should catch up in the dining room. I’ve had the cook preparing your favorite, Soul, steak and rice.”

“That’s my favorite, actually,” Wes said, already in the doorway to what Maka assumed was the dining room. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Oh.” Evelyn’s face fell slightly.

“It’s fine.” Maka said. “He’ll honestly eat anything that isn’t burnt. Right, Soul?”

“Right.” The mood in his voice hadn’t shifted.

“Well, let’s go then.” Ben said. “Your mother and I have had a busy day.”

The four followed Wes into the dining room, a high-ceilinged place with possibly even more extravagant decorating than the parlour.

“I’ll let the chef know we’re ready.” Evelyn said. “You all take your seats, things should be out it a minute.”

Maka leaned towards Soul as she took her seat across from Wes. “You have a chef?” She whispered.

Soul seemed to debate responding before leaning down with a partially-concealed smirk. “Maybe we should get one too. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand your cooking.” Maka stepped on his foot under the table, eliciting a small sound of pain. Wes stifled a chuckle behind a cough as Mr. Evans looked at the two in confusion.

Evelyn scurried out of the kitchen and took a seat at the right hand of her husband, smiling with a calming breath. “Dinner should be out in only a minute.”

There were hums of acknowledgement, before the room fell quiet enough to hear the subtle buzzing of the lights.”

“Well, that’s good.” Wes started. “I haven’t eaten since lunch!”

Soul winced, while Maka let out a small noise that she hoped would pass as a laugh. His parents only smiled like they had heard the joke before. Maka was reminded inexplicably of the dialogue in the soap operas she and Soul watched on their rare day off. Maka didn’t put it past Wes to actually get his jokes from soap operas, given that people would probably laugh at them anyway. But now, his attempt to break the silence only made things worse. Maka found herself almost missing her father’s attitude. No situation could be awkwardly quiet with him in the room, even if he only blabbered on about nonsense.

Thankfully, the meal was served not long after. At least they were served on regular plates, rather than silver platters. It was one of the only things convincing Maka that Soul had not, in fact, grown up in a historical fiction novel.

They started their meals without words, after Maka complimented the food, clinking silverware the only noise in the room aside from the ticking grandfather clock on the wall. It wasn’t too long however, before Wes broke the silence again, ever the ideal host.

“So Soul became a Death Scythe recently.” More like a year ago. But Maka wasn’t about to complain about the topic of conversation.

“Yes, you told us.” Ben turned towards Soul. “We sent a card, but you never responded.”

“I recognized the handwriting.” Soul slid the vegetables around on his plate before glancing up at his parents. “Wes wrote it, you just signed it.”

Evelyn at least appeared apologetic. “Well, yes, but we did intend-”

“You can’t expect us to have known what to write. We don’t understand all that- those morbid matters you deal with. Even the title!”

"It holds a lot of weight there." Wes interjected. "It's a very important position. There aren't many Death Scythes, and Soul is the last of them. And Maka is one of their top meisters as well, even as young as she is."

Maka wanted to wonder why Wes felt it so necessary to defend their success, but she had a feeling she already knew why, if Soul's constant feelings of inadequacy were any indication.

Evelyn twirled her necklace. “Perhaps we would understand more if you would visit, or even call more often.”

“When’s the last time _you’ve_ called _me_?”

“We’re busy.”

“I’m busy too.” Soul leaned back in his chair, away from his half-finished food. Despite his posture, Maka noted he was anything but relaxed.

“We all are.” Wes interrupted again. “Which is why it’s so nice to finally get together like this. Isn’t it nice for you two to finally meet Maka?”

Ben and Evelyn both smiled primly in her direction. "Yes," Benjamin began. "Soul tells us you're a...meister?"

Maka nodded. "A weapon meister, yes. I wield Soul when he's in his weapon form."

Soul grinned next to her, shark teeth barred. "Want a demonstration?"

Maka was struck by their reactions. The room instantly tensed, and Evelyne nearly bristled. "No," she said. "That's quite all right."

And another layer of the truth finally hit Maka. In Death City, being a weapon was something to be proud of. To _her,_ it was something to be proud of. Being a scythe was part of what made Soul who he was. Her weapon, her partner Soul. But here...for all the things they made Soul feel ashamed of, his weapon blood being one of them had never occurred to her. Were they proud of him for _anything_?

“It would...probably be too small in here anyway.” Maka said curtly, still trying to maintain civility, despite her finally-found aversion to Soul's parents. It was only the first night, after all. Maybe she was misreading things. As brash as she usually was, she needed to practice all her patience here. This mattered to Soul, whether or not he let it show.. “Besides, we’re having a meal.”

“Right. Ehm.” Evelyne looked at her plate, nearly empty. “Actually, I think I’m about done, and we have had a very busy day.” She stood. “We have all day tomorrow to visit, so I was thinking about turning in for the evening. Ben?’

The man nodded, standing as well.

“Will you three be all right?”

“Fine.” Soul grumbled.

“Alright.” Evelyn nodded in her son's’ direction as she and her husband left the room. We’ll see each other tomorrow.” She seemed to remember Maka at the last second, and turned back around. “It was nice to finally meet you, Maka.”

“Likewise.”

A few fading footsteps and slowly, the tension drained from the room. Soul's body relaxed a miniscule amount.

"That could have gone better," Wes said.

"Doubt it.” Soul grumbled. “You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up."

Wes glared at his brother. "Well, maybe if you had been a bit more amiable-"

"They're our parents, Wes, I shouldn't have to be amiable."

"But it could help. You know how they are."

“And you do too. Which is why you should have known that this was a bad idea.”

“Soul.” Maka took his hand under the table. “Don’t say that yet. It’s still the first night. Let’s just head to bed and see how things go tomorrow.”

Soul looked at her for a long time, red eyes tired. “Fine.” He stood up, releasing her hand. “G’night, Wes.”

He sighed. “Good night, Soul. I hope you sleep well.” Maka walked past him, a few steps behind Soul. Wes smiled tiredly. “And you too, Maka. Thanks for getting him here.”

“Thanks for mediating.” She answered, voice just as coated in near-exhausted relief. It was going to be a long weekend.

The stairs to the second floor were nothing compared to those at the Academy, but Soul dragged his feet nonetheless. When he reached his room, however, Maka stopped him from closing the door, instead walking in behind him. “Wes was right, you know.”

Soul groaned, sitting back on the bed. “Ugh, I don’t wanna hear this from you.”

“Then I won’t say it. Just...don’t let the years get to you. They’re trying to patch things up, and even if it’s...really late, it doesn’t have to be _too_ late.” Soul didn’t answer. Maka sighed. “It’s only the first night anyway. It may be easier to get back into the swing of things tomorrow, now that you've got some stuff out of the way.”

“The swing of things wasn't exactly peachy, Maka." Soul leaned back on the bed, refusing to look at her. "They've always been like this. That wasn't just them 'getting some things out of the way.'"

"You could at least try!" Maka argued.

"They're not trying."

Maka's soul flared in a morbid mix of pride and frustration. "You're better than them!"

Soul finally looked at her, sadly. "And you're better than all of us."

Okay, frustration was definitely winning over. "I never said that."

"It wasn't-" Soul ran a hand through his hair "Ugh, it wasn't meant to be an insult." He sighed.

Maka was tempted to argue, but either the jet lag or the dinner had exhausted her. So she sighed as well. "Just. I know it's hard for you. But we just gotta try for two more days. Can we do that?"

Soul looked up at her. For a moment she thought she saw defiance in his eyes, but then they softened to compromise. "Okay." He said quietly.

"Okay." She echoed. "I'm going to bed now. I'll see you tomorrow, Soul."

"Goodnight."

Maka closed the door behind her, Soul still staring up at the ceiling. She really hoped things would be okay. She knew what it was like to have a complicated relationship with your parents. Everything in Soul's life was already so complicated. She just wanted him to have closure with one thing.

Maka changed into her pajamas drowsily, brushing her teeth in the gold-framed mirror to the personal bathroom that she was still trying to decide her opinion on. She curled up in the double bed and fell asleep wondering if Soul even could.

**  
**

***

Maka awoke the next morning without an alarm, which was altogether unusual for her, even on the weekends. Between fighting pre-kishin and taking care of household responsibilities, she usually couldn’t find the time to sleep in, even if her partner did. Checking her phone, she found it to be just a little past 9 o’clock. So not too bad. Rolling out of bed, she decided to give Soul a few more minutes to sleep in before she woke him. They were technically on vacation time, after all. Maka went through her typical morning routine as best she could, sans starting breakfast, before leaving her room and turning to Soul’s door. To her surprise, it was already cracked open. Peeking in, she found the room empty, Soul presumably downstairs. The idea that he hadn’t slept at all resurfaced. Maybe she should have stayed with him a bit longer last night.

Maka made her way downstairs. As she had suspected, Soul and his family were in the parlour. She heard them arguing before she even reached the bottom of the stairs.

“...was supposed to be a visit.”

“It _is._ ”

“That’s not just a visit! Why would you even want to have this? To show off how much of a freak I am?”

“You’re not a freak, Soul.”

“Sure. You were all so thrilled to have a shark-toothed scythe for a son.”

“We were just- _startled._ ” Evelyn’s voice was gaining an edge now, no one noticing Maka’s quiet entrance. “We had expected you to stay with us and continue with the piano.”

Soul almost laughed. “You thought I was a freak for that too!”

“We don’t think you’re a freak, Soul, you’re just a bit...unusual. You can’t expect us to take everything in stride.”

“Wes did.”

Wes, strangely, was on the edge of the room instead of mediating. Perhaps he’d heard her coming despite the raised voices.

“Um, what’s going on?”

Wes bit his lip as he leaned down towards her to answer. “Soul found out about the party.”

Oh. Wes had warned her when he’d first extended the invitation to visit on behalf of his parents. He hadn’t known for certain then, but he’d told her it was a very real possibility that his parents would try to set something up to celebrate Soul’s status as a Death Scythe. Or really just to try to show him off. ‘ _They think having a responsibility like that must have made him more ‘respectable’’._ Maka had glanced at her partner, headphones on as he dozed on the couch, drool hanging out of the corner of his mouth. _‘Won’t they be surprised?’_

They’d decided it best not to bring it up to Soul, considering he was already hesitant about the visit in the first place. Maka had packed a party dress and Soul’s suit in her own bag.

Soul and his parents had reached anything but a stalemate in their argument now, Soul glowering dangerously as Evelyn seemed to come closer and closer to snapping. Maka could tell from the set in her jaw. Soul must have gotten that from her.

“I don’t know what you want us to do, Soul.”

“ _Cancel_.”

“You _know_ we can’t do that. We already sent out invitations.” Ben said.

“I’m so glad invitations are what’s important here.”

Maka finally stepped forward and placed a pacifying hand on Soul’s shoulder. “Soul, wait let’s talk about this.” She glanced at his parents. “Could you give us a minute?”

“By all means.”

Maka turned to start back up the stairs, trusting Soul to follow. After a beat he did, silently sulking until they finally reached his room. Maka closed the door.

“Are you actually taking their side?” He started incredulously.

“I’m not. I just want you to think about it. It’s a _party_ Soul, and we’re already here.”

“I don’t want to be.”

Maka groaned, her soul starting to buzz with irritation. “Don’t be such a baby. How is it any different than Kid’s parties?”

“I don’t like Kid’s parties either. I only go because of you.”

“Then go to this because of me.”

“This is different.”

“Really! How?”

“They don’t- ugh, you just don’t understand, Maka!” He tried to turn away, but Maka took a step to the side to block his path. There was nowhere to hide and sulk here.

“Because you don’t tell me!”

“Because it shouldn’t matter! Cause this situation shouldn’t even be an issue!” They were only inches apart, Maka struggling to make herself just a little bit taller.

“Well, it _is._ And we’re going to face it like adults. We’ve faced _Asura_ and you threw less of a fit.”

“This isn’t Asura.”

“You’re right. It’s a party! Something way easier to deal with.” Maka stood up as straight as she could. “Soul. I know this isn’t something you really want to do. But we’re already here. I’ll make sure no one makes you the center of attention.” She looked up at him. “Hide on the balcony if you have to. Pretend it’s just another party.. For me. I want to...understand this about you.”

Maka held her stance, watching the miniscule expressions on Soul’s face.

Finally, Soul stepped back and sat down on the bed, hunched over even more than usual. “That’s not fair, Maka.” He glanced up at her. “You know I’m only here for you in the first place.

“I know.” And she didn’t like it. “But I really think this can mean something to you, if you just give it a chance.” She sat down next to him. “And I don’t want to miss out on anything. This,” she gestured to the room around them “is part of what made you who you are, Soul, for better or for worse. And you’re someone I really care about.” She smiled. “So it can’t all be bad, right?”

Soul ignored the prompt, instead vying to bury his head in his hands again. “They could have at least warned me.” He grumbled.

“Well, Wes did warn me.”

Soul looked up, shocked. “You knew?”

Maka grimaced. “Ah, well...Wes wanted to make sure I brought the right clothes with us.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“He thought you might not come.”

Soul glared at her, eyes like embers. “You’re right, I _wouldn’t_ have.”

“Soul.” She leaned against his side, resting as much of her weight on him as she could. She wasn’t sure it was much.

He groaned, cutting her off and hunching farther over. “Can’t we just leave?”

“Soul!” Maka sat up sharply, assuring he met her eyes. “They are trying to be _proud_ of you, even if it’s for something they don’t understand. The least you can do is try to understand them.”

Soul laid back, avoiding her by gazing the ceiling as he had last night. “I don’t wanna think about their motivations, Maka. They’re anything but pure.”

Maka sighed. “Then don’t.” She stood up and stretched out her hand. “Just pretend you are. For me, right?”

Soul looked at her hand, eyes full as they always were. Adoration. Devotion. It made every fight- over dishes, schoolwork, _parents-_ worth it. “Anything.” He answered, taking her hand.

“Good. Now let’s go tell your family that they don’t have to cancel.”

Soul’s face twisted between a grin and a grimace. “They wouldn’t anyway.”

They made their way back down to the parkour. Wes met her gaze as they entered, with a look that implied he had heard at least some of the yelling. Well, she'd gotten the job done, hadn't she?

Soul’s parents stood expectantly. Several beats passed before Soul finally spoke. “I'll go. But I'm not promising to stay or play your perfect son. That's Wes's job.”

“We wouldn't expect you to” Ben said, pointedly ignoring Soul’s attitude.

Evelyn clapped her hands together. “Well, now that we have that all sorted out, I did promise I'd be getting brunch with the girls. I need to be getting ready. And you have business to take care of at the studio, don't you, Ben?” She smiled at Soul. “We’ll be able to catch up this evening. Oh, and I'm sure everyone will be so happy to see how you've grown.” She bustled off up the stairs, presumably to her room to get ready for her plans. Soul’s father lingered for a few moments, almost as if to scold him for the attitude his wife had ignored, but in the end he decided against it, leaving out the front door. Maka barely saw him get into his car through the window as Soul let out a harsh breath.

“They won't even clear their plans, but they expect me to go to this dumb thing. Ugh.” Soul started towards the front door. “I'm going out.”

“Where?” Wes asked.

“Just out.”

Maka took a step towards him. “Do you want us to go with you?”

Soul turned and met her eye for a moment, the bare minimum when dealing with Maka Albarn, before turning away again. “Maybe later, Maka. You can spend some time with Wes or something.”

Maka almost pushed, but she held her tongue. He was doing enough today. He deserved his alone time. When the door closed behind him, Wes took a long breath and turned to Maka. “Do you always wake up to that?”

Maka smiled. “Only when I make him wake up early to finish his homework.”

“Ugh, homework. I can't say I envy you, my dear little high-schooler. Would you like some breakfast?”

Maka nodded. “Definitely. I've usually eaten by now.”

“Come on, then.” He started towards to kitchen. “We have cereal, or I could make eggs if you'd like.”

Maka grinned and followed. “You can make eggs? My dear Wesley, don't you have a cook for that?”

“Hey, she's only here for special occasions. Besides, I've lived by myself long enough. I'm sure you know what that's like.”

Maka chuckled. “Yeah, actually. You'd be surprised how quickly a twelve year old can catch on to household chores when she's suddenly plopped into her own apartment. Even Soul caught on.”

“I wish I knew your secrets. I couldn't even get him to clean his room when he lived with us.”

“I never said I could get him to clean his room.”

Wes pulled out a pan and asked Maka to get some eggs from the fridge. By the time they leaned against the island, plates in front of them, small talk had faded to egg-enjoying silence. Wes was the one who broke it. “Thank you for talking to Soul this morning. And for getting him here. I know he can be...difficult sometimes.”

Maka shrugged. “He's just on a little bit of a different track. I don't think he means to be. And this is all kind of touchy for him.”

“It is.”

Maka bit her lip. She knew she should ask Soul, but she'd been doing so for so long and barely learned anything. “Do you know why?”

“Why what?”

“Why it's touchy for him. Why he doesn't visit.” Maka pushed the remaining eggs around her plate. “I know your family has really high expectations for him. Or had, before he came to Death City. But he doesn't...that's all I really know. Whenever I try to ask him, he kind of shuts down. He doesn't wanna talk about it. But I want to understand that part of him, ya know?”

“I know. He's not much for words, huh?” Wes sighed, gaze falling across the counter. “You saw a bit of how they are. Our parents. They're good people, but they're just- I think they expected to have kids just like them. And Soul’s not, obviously. They care a lot about appearances.” He chuckled. “You should have seen their faces when he started growing teeth. I was a kid, so I thought it was the coolest thing ever, but it freaked them out.” Wes looked over at Maka. “I mean, they got over it. They weren't gonna disown their kid cause he looked a little weird. But-” Wes ran a hand through his hair. “-he's not good at parties. He never took to piano as easily as I did to violin. They were disappointed. They never said that, but I think it kind of got to him anyway, And he was just really different. Not in a bad way, but it didn't exactly fit in with the rest of this.” He gestured to the house around them. He sighed again. “I don't know. I guess it was a lot of little things. They didn’t understand Soul. And they didn't have to work to understand me, so I guess they just let things stay like that.”

Maka was sure it was more than that. It had to be. And she was sure Wes knew it too. But she was also sure that it was hard to capture things with words sometimes. The rest had to be filled in with the shape of someone's soul. Soul’s soul, if he ever let her see that part of it.

“Anyway.” Wes straightened. “I'm glad you were able to convince him to come. Things can't get better if you don't work at it, right?” He grinned. Even without the shark teeth he looked so much like Soul.

“Right.”

“Even if it doesn't, though.” Wes looked at Maka meaningfully. “The fact that you're willing to work at this with him. It means a lot, even if Soul doesn't realize it. He wouldn't have come here if it wasn't for you.”

“I'm sure if you begged him enough.” Maka said.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don't understand him as well as I should either. But you do.”

Maka cast her eyes down. “I don't know if that's true. I still don't know, well,” she gestured around her as Wes had earlier, “all of this.”

Wes shook his head. “You don't have to. You know his soul, yeah? That whole resonance thing.” He grinned, every bit of the proud older brother shining though “And you're the best at it. Shibusen’s most powerful weapon-meister pair.”

Maka smiled back. “You don't even know what that means.”

“You're right, I don't. But I'm proud anyway.”

Maka laughed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Wes reached beneath her arms to grab her empty plate, stacking it on top of his own. “Now help me do the dishes. Before the cook shows up. She's gonna have enough to do with the party tonight.”

“I'm not refusing, but there's only, like, 3 dishes.”

“Plus silverware, Maka, that's _five._ And between washing, rinsing, drying and putting away, that's _twenty. Twenty steps Maka.”_

“Oh my gosh, you're worse than Soul.”

“No, I just used math in my arguments. Makes me sound smarter.”

“Wow. I was absolutely fooled.”

Despite the _twenty steps_ they were done within five minutes. When they came back out to the living room, Soul was already there, sitting on the couch and listening to his headphones. Wes sat down next to him abruptly, startling Soul, whose eyes were closed.

“How was your walk, little brother?”

Soul pulled out a headphone. He seemed in a much better mood now, aside from the fraction of him that was undoubtedly still holding on out of stubbornness. “Fine.”

“I’m glad. Did you get breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because we just did _five_ dishes and I'm not making eggs again.”

The corner of Soul’s mouth turned up. “You made eggs?”

“Why does everyone find that so hard to believe? I'm helpful when I visit you two.”

“No you're not, you just take us out to dinner every night.”

“And that's helpful.” He looked up. “Isn't it Maka?”

Maka sat down on the other side of Soul. “Oh yeah. It's definitely better than Soul’s cooking.”

Soul stared at her in disbelief. “You burn our food on your nights at least once a week. You literally have no right to say that.”

Maka stuck her tongue out. “Well, I only burn breakfast when you take too long to get out of bed. Besides, you don't do any better.”

“I absolutely do.”

“Takeout doesn't count.”

“I think you're getting things mixed up, Maka. Last I checked, _you're_ the one who has the Chinese place on speed dial.”

Wes leaned forward, demanding the attention of both Soul and Maka. “All I’m getting from this is that I _am_ helpful.”

The morning went on like that, well into the afternoon. Soul’s childhood home didn’t seem to bother him as much when his parents were absent. The three did the things that Maka had expected to do with Soul’s parents, including baby pictures. They explored the house some, as much as for Soul as for Maka. Apparently, Evelyn was fond of redecorating rather often. Even the kitchen had gone through drastic changes, according to Wes. But familiar or not, Maka was relieved to see how unbothered Soul was by the house that held so many sour memories for him. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as bad as Soul thought it would be.

Then again, Maka’s hopes were dashed as soon as Evelyn returned a few hours before the party. Soul’s mood deflated the moment she walked in the door, despite her efforts to be pleasant. She hardly spent fifteen minutes with them before she excused herself to get ready. Maka suspected it had less to do with needing 2 hours and more with how potent the awkwardness in the room was. Maka tried to pick up where they had left off, but Soul seemed determined to be in a bad mood as long as one of his parents was within a square mile. Maka wanted to shout at how little he was trying. She would at least _talk_ to her papa.

“I think I’m gonna get ready too,” she said, standing up from her place between Soul and Wes.

“It doesn’t take you that long to get ready.” Soul stated, deadpan.

“I know, but I wanna wind down some first, do a little reading.”

“Nerd.”  
Maka crinkled her nose. “Slacker.”  It was all routine. “I’ll lay your suit out on your bed. You can hang out with Wes. I don’t think you two have gotten any time alone yet.”

“You would be right, my dear Maka.” Wes scooted closer to Soul, draping his arm over his shoulders. “You take your time getting ready, Soul and I need to enjoy our sibling bonding time, right, Soul?”

Soul groaned in response, but Maka could tell Wes’s attitude was rubbing off on him, just a little bit. Maka left the living room with smile and a wave, starting up the stairs. First she reached into her suitcase, taking Soul’s suit, which she’d neatly packed in its bag from the dry cleaners. Inspecting it to ensure there weren’t any wrinkles, Maka stepped into Soul’s room, placing the article on his bed. He better not sit on it.

Maka returned to her own room, falling back on the bed and turning to the end table she’d put her books on yesterday. She’d brought two, just in case, not that she’d expected to get much reading done. She picked up the smaller one, a poetry book, and opened to her bookmark.

She didn’t get very far, of course. Even if she didn’t take quite as long as Soul’s mother, she still wanted to give herself at least and hour and a half to get ready. Maka laid out her own dress before hopping in the shower. She’d shaved the morning before she and Soul had left Death City, so thankfully she didn’t have to deal with that. She was in and out in less than fifteen minutes, a habit she’d picked up from sharing an apartment with someone who she suspected ran all-hot water during his half-an-hour showers.

After making herself relatively dry, Maka slipped into her dress and walked back into the bathroom to admire herself in the mirror. It was deep burgundy, a shade or two darker than Soul’s eyes, and stopped a little above the knees. Soul had always liked longer dresses, and Maka suspected his parents did as well, but Maka didn’t like cutting off her mobility.

Her makeup took her nearly forty-five minutes, as many times as she had to do and re-do the wings of her eyeliner. Blair had been trying to teach her for _years_ to no avail, despite the fact that she was usually there to do them for her. Maka guessed she was trying to prepare her for situations like this. Oh well. By the fourth try and the third makeup wipe, Maka had them down.

It took less time to do her hair, pulling some from the front around to the back, the rest left down. Some perfume, jewelry, and a pair of kitten heels later, and Maka was done. She checked the time. 7:30. The party started at 8:00, and she’d heard no signs of Soul getting ready. Maybe he was just being quiet. She was about to check his room when she saw him strolling down the hall, hands in his pockets.

“Soul! You have less than half an hour!”

“I’m coming.”

“Hurry up!”

“Ugh, Maka.” His eye roll was enough to turn his whole head. “You know this isn’t gonna start exactly at eight, right?”

“You need to be ready by then!” She’d followed him into his room.

“I will be, okay? See?” He gestured to his bed. “Suit’s already out. I just need to shower.”

Maka gave him a look.

“I’ll take a quick shower, promise.” He patted her on the head as he passed her on his way to the bathroom.

“Don’t mess up my hair!”

The bathroom door closed. “I didn’t!”

“Tell me when you’re ready!”

Maka was answered with the sound of running water. She headed over to Soul’s bed with a huff, moving his suit to the side and laying down. She wouldn't get much reading done anyway, worrying about how long it would take Soul to get ready. Instead, she counted down minutes. After about twenty she was about to get up and tell Soul to get out (fifteen was all he needed anyway), when the water finally turned off. “I'm coming out!” Soul warned.

Maka rolled forward off the bed and stepped into the hallway. “Let me know when you’re decent.” She called before closing the bedroom door. She waited outside for what seemed like far too long. She had left her phone in Soul’s room and was beginning to suspect he was taking so long on purpose. Hearing a simple “decent” from the bedroom, Maka stepped back in. Soul was only in his pants and dress shirt, hair still a mess and a little damp.

“Hurry _up_ , Soul!”

“I need socks.”

“Clearly. Just grab some from your suitcase.”

“I didn't pack black socks.”

“Why does it matter?”

“I can't believe you just asked me that.” Soul gestured to himself “It's part of the _look_. Have you ever seen white socks peeking out between black shoes and pants. It’s not cool.”

“Then just borrow some from Wes or something.”

“Um. Ew. No.”

“Then wear white socks!”

“ _Maka_ .” She swore his voice was a _whine._

“Did you check your pants pocket?” Maka suggested, exasperated. Soul reached down into his pocket, pulling out a rolled up pair of black socks.

“Oh. No.”

“Good Death, Soul, just finish getting dressed.”

Soul sat down on the bed, pulling on his socks before reaching for his tie, still flat on the hanger. He sighed. “I hate these, they're so constricting.”

“You literally wear a tie in your soul.”

“I can't feel it choking me in my soul. And you wear like, four inch heels in my soul.”

“I don't choose those. And I'm not wearing them now.” Maka stuck out her left foot, pointing to her shoes.

“Exactly. And I wouldn't wear this if I didn't have to.”

“Just wear the tie, Soul. You look good in it.”

He cracked a sharky grin. “Did I mishear you or was that a compliment?”

Maka tried hard not to blush at his tone. “Oh, shut up and get ready. We’re gonna be late.”

Soul finished tying his tie and pulled on his jacket. “We’re not gonna be late. See? All ready.” He held out his arms in presentation.

“Your hair?”

“Ugh, Maka-”

“You spend at least ten minutes making it look ‘cool’ every morning, you can make it look presentable for this.”

He shuffled into the bathroom with only a groan. Maka lay down on the bed, careful not to wrinkle her dress. She glanced at the alarm. It was very nearly time. Eight crept around, then 8:10, then 8:15. Soul hadn’t left the bathroom.

Maka rolled to her feet. It didn’t take _that_ long for him to style his hair. She opened the bathroom door to see him staring boredly at the mirror. Maka opened her mouth to scold him for wasting time, but something about his expression stilled her tongue. She moved to stand next to him instead, twin reflections staring back at them.

She glanced at Soul. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You cool?”

“Yeah.”

Maka grazed her hand against his anyway, carefully intertwining their fingers. “It’s just another party. Pretend Kid is throwing a fit because Liz didn’t eat her crackers over the sink.

That pulled a lopsided grin out of his reflection, a tired chuckle. “Easier said than done. These geezers talk with their mouths open, there’ll be so many crumbs that Kid would have the place evacuated.”

“Be nice.”

“Have you met me?”

“You’re my partner, dummy.”

“Exactly. You should know better.”

“Ugh, just come downstairs.” Maka turned towards him. “I like your hair, by the way.” It was brushed back and to the side in a style she’d never seen before. She was surprised he had gotten it to be so tame.

“Thanks. I like your lipstick.”

“Is the black too much?”

“Nah. Can’t let ‘em forget we’re from Death City, can we?”

Maka smiled. “Right. Shibusen’s best weapon-meister pair.”

They left the bathroom, Soul straightening his tie as they went. A pit-stop at Maka’s room to grab her purse, and they were starting down the stairs.

Several of the guests had already arrived (as they would; she and Soul were 20 minutes late), and set as it was, the scene below them was pretty much exactly what Maka had expected. People mostly middle aged or older, costumed up in what Maka could only assume was the fashion of the upper class. Champagne glasses sparkled like fairy lights below the room’s chandelier, and the music of a small band played softly from the corner. Or orchestra, if various-sized violins meant orchestra. Maka hadn’t thought to ask during her classical training on the plane ride.

Despite the scene, however, their entrance was nothing like a movie, even as Soul tensed beside her. No record screeched to a stop. The room did not stare at them, at _him,_ the estranged son returning home for the first time in half a decade. Instead there were glances of mild curiosity, like people watching a particularly interesting show; or affronted, like sinners watching one of the same revealed to the church. The whispers were not a wave through the crowd, but instead ripples sneaking between other conversations.

Maka pushed her shoulders back, steadying the buzzing soul beside her, and started down the stairs. She trusted Soul to follow.

They entered the fray with no plan. Maka didn't know anyone here except for Wes, who was surrounded by the kind of crowd that she doubted Soul would be comfortable with. But Wes, thankfully, met the eyes next to her with an enthusiastic smile and excused himself from the group to make his way over to them.

"Soul, you came!"

"I said I would."

"Yes, but you're only half an hour late."

Souls expression was sour. "Maka likes to be on time."

Wes nodded at her. "And I'm grateful for that. May I say, Maka, that you look lovely. You’re makeup is very…” he trailed off, lips pursed.  
"Morbid?" Soul offered, the shadow of a grin passing over his features.

"Macabre." Wes finished instead, with the refined victory of a teacher's pet who'd raised their hand with the right answer. Maka should know. "Though I’ll admit, it may give some of our older guests heart attacks."

Maka raised her hands to her lips self consciously. "Is it too much?" She'd only started wearing makeup somewhat recently, and with Death City and a witch-cat as inspiration she wasn't sure what normal people thought looked good. Maybe she should have asked Liz.

"Not at all, Maka. To be honest, they'll probably be more distracted by Soul anyway."

"Great."

"I'm sorry, Brother, but that's what you get for not coming to a party in 6 years."

"They'd stare anyway."

"Hmm." Wes glanced behind him discreetly, towards a group that was being far less than discreet about their distant hovering. "You're probably right. I...really am sorry for that."

"It's not you."

"I know." There was almost a moment of peace between the three of them, but Wes was soon whisked away by an older man from the right who had apparently grown tired of waiting.

Maka turned towards Soul. "Have you seen your parents?"

"No." They'd certainly be here by now. Either they were hidden in the throng of people or Soul was lying. Probably the former; Soul wasn't good at lying to her.

"Well, let's get some food, then. Dinner was really good, so I definitely want to see what's here."

"You're not supposed to go straight for the snacks, Maka."

"Do you have something else you'd like to start with?"

He pulled his lips tight over his teeth in something that could have been some variation of a smile. "We could start with leaving," he suggested.

"Oh, you're already here, Soul, let's just start with the food."

"Ugh, fine. Don't stuff yourself."

"You're not coming with me?”

"I already told you, it's not cool to go right for the food."

  
Maka shrugged. If he really couldn't handle this himself, he would have found some excuse to stay together. "Suit yourself. I’ll be right back.” She turned towards the far end of the room, where the wall was lined with long tables of hors d'oeuvres. At least there weren't butlers walking around with trays of champagne. From the looks of the bottles on the tables lining the wall, they weren’t necessary anyway.

Maka took a small tray from the end and began filling it with whatever looked good. There was plenty of seafood, as expected on the coast, but Maka was careful choosing. She didn’t doubt its quality, but growing up in Nevada had given her certain tastes, crustacean not being one of them. She picked some shrimp anyway. She didn’t mind it, and it was one of Soul’s favorites, the little shark. Some more usual snacks for herself and she turned back to find her partner.

Soul was closer to the throng of people than she would have expected, having already been roped into a conversation with a girl perhaps a little older than them and a woman who could have been her mother. Even from a distance, Maka could tell he wasn’t enjoying himself, but she wasn’t sure it would be obvious to anyone else. Regardless, Maka wove through the people, smiling politely where it was required, to make her way towards him. People hardly noticed her, something she’d become unaccustomed to in Death City since the battle on the moon, but she supposed there was no reason for these people to recognize her. They were from a different world.

Maka managed her way to Soul’s side without interrupting the conversation, though the girl gave her a curious look before interrupting her mother, who was talking about how tall Soul had gotten despite his slouch.

“Is this your date?” she asked, the question clearly directed at Soul. Maka did her best to fight back her blush. They always went together to parties like this in Death City, but Maka was unaccustomed to the implications the girl was so clearly pondering.

“My meister,” Soul said instead. “Maka.”

The girl smiled at her now, pretty blue eyes looking her up and down with an almost morbid curiosity as she extended her hand. “Carolyne. It’s nice to meet you, Maka. You...fight with Soul?”

Maka took Carolyne’s hand with confidence. _Finally_ a topic she knew about. “Yes. I wield him in his weapon form.”

The mother, who had yet to introduce herself, looked at her daughter in a rather caustic manner, as if she was scandalized by the very topic, but Carolyne paid her no mind. “That’s quite something. I heard you...made Soul a Death Scythe? I thought he already was one?” She glanced at Soul again, who had apparently resorted to letting Maka do the talking, as usual.

“He was a scythe before. I guess you could say Death Scythe is a power up from that? We did it together, anyway.”

“Well, it really is something. People never really expected anything like that from Soul when we were kids-”

“Well, he does have his brother to live up to,” The mother finally took the opportunity to inject herself into the conversation. “It’s hard to be as skilled as Wesley is at the violin, and Soul did always have somewhat morbid tastes.” She glanced at him, tight-lipped. “I suppose it was for the best that he developed...well, the way he did.”

Maka was suddenly fighting the urge to punch the woman. Or at the very least to throw her plate of untouched food in her face. “Well, it was certainly for the best as far as the world is concerned,” Maka said bitingly, smiling widely with black-painted lips. “Without Soul, we’d all be consumed by madness by now.”

“That _was_ scary. A few years ago, I mean.” Carolyne said. “There was even a demon a few towns over. We were quite concerned.” She took hold of the older woman’s arms with desperation, as if even the thought of conflict terrified her. “Anyway, Soul, it is nice to see you back home, but I’ve noticed Mr. Adley is finally open over there, and I’m sure he and my mother have something to talk about, right?”

The older woman looked slowly at them once more before nodding and turning away with her daughter. Soul slouched even more with their departure. Out of relief or spite, Maka wasn’t sure.

“So who were they?” She asked.

“Uh, business friend of my father’s. And her daughter.”

“You knew them?”

“Not really. One of those ‘saw you when you were a baby and never again.’ Carol was friends with Wes though, I saw her sometimes.”

“I didn’t like her mom.”

Soul shrugged. “What did you expect, she’s friends with my dad.”

“You seriously don’t have a problem with it?”

Soul picked up a piece of shrimp from her plate.

she said. He gave her a skeptical look before popping the shirmp into his mouth. He knew better.

“You wanted me to give my parents a chance.”

“Your _parents,_ Soul, not rude old ladies!”

“Same thing, Maka.”

She really wanted to argue, but...Maka glanced around until she found Soul’s mother, laughing lightly with Wes at the center of the party, not paying the least bit of attention to Soul. His father was no better.

“Ugh, whatever.” Maka tried handing her plate over to Soul. “Eat this, I got it for you anyway.”

He smirked, taking it. “Thanks.”

“I thought it wasn’t cool to go right for the food.”

“I didn’t, you got it for me.”

Maka looked at him, suddenly tired of the whole party. “You’re ridiculous.”

“So are you.” At least he was smiling now, though his shoulders were still tense.

The party continued much the way Maka had expected, even with her dappered mood.

Conversations were had with people who were strangers to her and almost strangers to Soul, though one wouldn’t know it with the confidence with which they approached him. Their fellow guests regarded them with everything from quiet respect to outright rudeness, though most fell somewhere in between. The only oddity she could detect was that Soul's parents had yet to approach him, and he them. She said as much only after she had pulled him into a dance for the second time that evening.  
"They want people to think they've kept in contact with me." He said bitterly. "That this isn't the only time they'd get a chance to talk to me."

"I'm sure that's not it." Maka said, but even she didn't sound convincing.

He gave her a dry look.

"Okay, well, maybe it is." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Soul."

"What for?"

"I... just really wanted this to work out. I guess I thought, maybe with me it would be easier." Maka looked down, cheeks warm, though her hands didn't leave his shoulders. It only occurred to her how presumptuous that sounded now that she was saying it out loud.

"Hey, don't sweat it. If it helps, we got farther with you here than I did with Wes in... five years? Then again, he doesn't hit me with books."

"Soul!"

He laughed, "It's just a fact, Maka, don't deny your crimes."

"It just seemed really important."

Maka felt him shrug, though she was sure he was at least a little more bothered than the gesture suggested. "Really, it's not. You don't have to like your parents, Maka. I know you know that."

"I know. I guess I had higher hopes for them. For yours. You never...you never told me why they were so awful." She looked up at him, smiling softly. "And you turned out pretty cool."

"Oh please, you think they ever let me own a leather jacket before I moved out?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Whatever." He smiled. "Thanks, Nerd."

Another song started, though they didn't part.

"So you really think there's no hope?"

Soul's expression fell again, held grim. "I don't know." He spun them around to look at his parents where the talked across the room. "But it's not something that could be fixed in a weekend, or...anytime soon. Not like this anyway." He looked back at her. "I'd do it for you though, if you really wanted."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I know." His voice was lighter, though none the less serious. "I thought maybe you might wanna find one solid pair of parents between us."

"I'm sure Wes and my mama count for something. And Miss Marie. Besides, we've got each other.

"Right. And we're adults soon anyway."

"Ugh." She buried her head in his shoulder. "Don't even start."

" _What are your plans after graduation_?"

" _Stop._ "

"I can't believe they asked us that. I can't believe you answered."

"I was trying to be polite. And at least we have an idea. That's more than I can say for some of our classmates."

"Only cause we're oh so lucky enough to be involved in the Witch Negotiations."

"We are lucky! It’s important! Those meetings will go down in history books!"

"It's boring, and you know it. And no one read history books except for nerds like you."

"I can't believe you're still on this after all these years."

"I can't believe you're still a nerd after all this time spent in my cool presence."

"You sound like Black Star."

"Oh, now you're hitting below the belt."

"You started it."

"Right." He spun her once more as the song ended. The two mostly released each other, save for their hands, still intertwined, meister and weapon.

It wasn't weird, not to them, not to the people they knew. But the longer they held onto each other, making their way closer to the band, the more people stared. It held a different connotation here, she realized, watching eyes linger on their hands clasped together. It was making him nervous, but not enough to let go. So Maka held his hand tighter. She was a child of death, and he was her partner, and if a bunch of snobby old money didn’t understand that, they could shove it. But it was impossible to deny that she was unaffected by everyone in the room.

Maka met the eyes of Soul's parents, staring openly from across the room. Curious, perhaps, but calculating, without passion. And it was then, more than she had before, that she realized that was the problem. They didn't understand. They would never understand a meister and a weapon, shark teeth and a smiling death and desperate, crashing pieces played on the piano. They would never understand Soul unless they tried, and she wasn't sure they ever would, even if they did care about him. They hadn't once, in 18 years. The realization put a foul taste in her mouth.  
Soul noticed his parents when she did, and let go of her hand with determination. "I'm gonna go talk to Wes," he muttered. Maka nodded and let him go. One more chance, maybe. They hadn't approached them all night, but now Maka made her way over to Evelyn and Ben.

“Hi.” she greeted.

Evelyn smiled. “Hello, Maka.”

“How is Soul enjoying the party?” Ben asked. “We tried to keep it small, but there were so many people eager to catch up with him.”

“It’s...I think he’s okay. He’s not really one for parties.”

“He never was, though I’m at a loss as to why.” Evelyn rolled her necklace between her fingers. “Wes has always been so fond of them.” Her eyes focused on Maka. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed your stay? I know Ben and I have been a bit busy.”

“It’s been nice.” It _was_ nice, to see where he came from. To come a step closer to understanding.

“I’m glad. Soul seems fond of you. We want you both to feel comfortable with us.”

“Me too.” Maka said, voice only a bit cold. And that _was_ the truth, to an extent. She still wanted Soul to be comfortable with them, if he could. Even if it didn’t happen soon.

“How has he been?” Ben asked, and Maka thought she finally detected a bit of care in his voice. “He doesn’t call, and Wes can only tell us so much.”

Maka considered her answer. “He’s been well.” She said. “Death City...I think that’s where he’s supposed to be.” For forever, probably, but especially for now. If there was a time when Soul could cope with people so misunderstanding, so _unwilling_ to understand more, it wasn't then. He deserved better.

But Evelyn looked relieved at her answer, regardless. “Thank you, Maka. We’re glad...that he's found a place. With you, Maka, and as a...Death Scythe.” She hesitated over the word, like it was something scandalous and she was just a bit too proud to hush her voice over. It sounded too much like they were giving him away. But they did not seem to hold resentment towards him. No, they'd left that burden to their son. Parent to child.

Maka excused herself quietly, a nod from Ben and a quick touch on the arm from Evelyn. It wasn't her place to cast judgements on Soul’s parents. They were his to love and hate and everything in between, and it was only her job to feel the same.

Maka glanced at the hors d'oeuvres and decided against them, scanning the room for Soul. She'd already eaten tonight anyway. For a moment she thought she'd found him, a shock of white hair at the edge of the room, but the posture was all wrong. Maka approached Wes, alone for possibly the first time that evening. “Where’s Soul?” She asked. “I thought he wanted to talk with you.”

“Ah, he did,” Wes rubbed the back of his neck. ”But he’s in his room now, I believe. He said he’d be back down soon, he just needed a break.”

Maka nodded. She wasn’t far behind in that department, surprisingly. _Usually_ she enjoyed parties. “Thanks. I think I’m gonna go check on him.”

Wes winked, seemingly more out of habit than anything. He seemed tired too. “Be my guest, although he’s not feeling terribly sociable.”

“Is he ever?”

Wes nodded in understanding, turning away with a suddenly amiable air as another guest approached. Ah, so it _was_ an act, at least a little.

Maka took a tired breath and made her way up the stairs again. If Soul had retired for the night she probably wouldn’t be coming back down either. Was it rude to leave without saying anything, even if you weren’t leaving the house? She couldn’t bring herself to care.

Maka took her heels off as soon as she turned into the hallway. Even as small as they were, they put a pressure on her feet. She carried them with her to the end of the hall, cracking open her own door to place them in her room. She then stepped across the hall to Soul’s room, knocked. There were no lights coming from under the door.

“What?” His voice was about as irritable as she’d expected.

“It’s me, she answered. She opened the door after a resigned ‘oh.’ Soul was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed in the dark, headphones in and jacket off. “What’s up?”

“I’m...done.” He shrugged. “Just wanted to see Wes for a second.”

“You left without me.”

“Didn’t wanna ruin your fun.”

“Can I join you?” Maka nodded towards where he sat.

“If you feel like sitting on the floor,” he said. “I’m not getting up.”

She took the few steps over to him. “I could sit on the bed.” But she sat down next to him anyway. She heard music she didn’t recognize. Was it...jazz? Or indie? Was indie a genre? It sounded like both. It stepped like jazz. Or was that waltz? Was waltz a genre? Maka didn’t know if she was getting worse or better at identifying music.

“What’s wrong?” Her concentration must have been showing on her face. Embarrassing.

“I’m trying to figure out what kind of music you’re listening to.”

“And?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re thinking too hard.”

“It _is_ hard. What is it?”

He leaned his head back against the mattress, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes. “It’s _modern_ _jazz,_ Pigtails, you should know this one.”

“That’s what I thought!” She exclaimed. “Or...indie...jazz?”

He almost laughed. “Close enough.”

“I also thought it could have been like, waltz.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Hey, no take-backs, I guessed it right.”

“I _told_ you the answer.”

“But I had the right idea.” She settled in more comfortably. “Whatever, you know I was right.”

“Sure.” He handed her the left headphone and closed his eyes. “Let’s test your new music skills, then.”

Maka couldn’t even make it through a whole song. She’d come up here with a mission after all. “Why’d you leave early?”

“Don’t like parties.” He answered, eyes closed.

“Besides that.”

Seconds past without a reaction, before Soul slowly paused the music and took out a headphone, dragging his eyes open. “Why do you think?” He asked.

“I want to know your reasons, not what I think they were.”

Soul dragged a hand through his hair. It had long since fallen out of place, back into his eyes. “Didn’t wanna deal with...them.”

“Your parents?”

“And everyone.”

“You hardly talked to them though,” she argued, as if talking to strangers was normal for him.

“Didn’t have to. They felt gross. You’re the one with soul perception, you should know this.”

Maka furrowed her brow. She hadn’t thought to read the room, other than the usual sweep. She admittedly wasn’t the greatest judge of character without it, though.

“But your parents…”

“They weren’t there for me anyway.” he said.

“You don’t know that,” she tried. She had a feeling he did, though. He didn’t answer, surely aware that she was vaguely certain of his thoughts anyway.

Minutes passed as the room quieted, sombered. “Do you hate them?” she asked finally.

“Do you hate your dad?”

‘Of course I do’ ran to the tip of her tongue, but her lips closed around it. She didn't, not really, could not say as much in this moment of honesty between them. She stayed quiet instead.

“See? It’s complicated.”

“I wish it wasn’t.”

“Everyone does.”

Maka took Soul’s hand, leaning against his shoulder in the dark. “I wish they were better,” she whispered. All of them. His parents and hers.

Soul sighed, gripped her hand tighter. “Yeah.”

“You...you deserve good things, Soul. Better things.” She felt his _soul_ swell next to hers, warm and familiar and _him._

“You too.” He said.

She turned her face to his shoulder, a puff of air escaping between her lips. “Ahh, we’re such a mess.”

“Eh, you’re a mess. I’m a mess. _We’re_ not a mess.”

“Right. Shibusen’s strongest pair, right?”

He squeezed her hand again. “Yeah. Parent issues can’t bring us down. We got each other.”

Maka glanced up at him, features shadowed by the room around them, but he was still there, recognizable to her with her eyes closed. Her heart was suddenly tight with something nowhere near new, yet still as unfamiliar as the first time she felt it. _I think I’m in love with you, Soul._ she thought. “You’re my best friend,” she said instead.

She felt him nod. “You’re my best friend too, Maka.”

“Do you wanna listen to music?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” He answered, voice just as soft, barely sifting through the dark. He handed her her earbud, moved his phone’s playlist to something else. _Angel._

They listened to him play until they fell asleep, souls thrumming together with all that made them.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, finally finished! For those of you who made it this far, an extra-special thank you!!!  
> Make sure to check out @anonbaph's gorgeous art on tumblr if you haven't seen it yet.  
> Until next year, happy resbang!


End file.
